Dreams
by Kaiy Marie
Summary: Sometimes dreaming away the problem isn't enough to make it through life. Sara centric.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is related to CSI in any way. I only own the story line. 

A/N: So this isn't my first story on here, but I decided to start over fresh because I have improved a great deal in my writing in the last three years. The first three chapters are kind of short (under 1,000 words), but I promise they get longer. The description of this story says Romance, but I'm not sure which way I am going to go in that department. I have several different options and I believe I have found a way to mix it all in together. So enjoy the story and R&R (Flames welcomed readily)

Philosophies

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Dreams are the human brains way of escaping its fears and facing its fears. My foster mother told me that when I was thirteen and I guess I never forgot it. I actually lived by it for a couple of years. As the years went by, I kind of warped that little philosophy into one of my own. I used my logic and figured that if I faced my fear in my dreams that I had automatically faced it in life. When I was seventeen I told my health teacher my philosophy. She laughed. She just flat out laughed and then advised my foster parents and my principal that I needed therapy. I guess that is where my story really began, because before that I was living in a body that actually believed people would want to really help you. I promised myself from then on that only I could know my thoughts and prayers (at one time I really believed there was a God.

I went through college never letting anyone get close to me. When anyone would get to close I would remind myself of that high pitched laughing and push them away and ask them to never contact me again. I left college with only one person ever even being able to touch the surface of who I really was. In a way, Gil was almost a father to me. He was gentle and told me that I was beautiful and that I was intelligent. Those were words I had seldom heard from my biological father when he was sober, but at the same time heard more then I could handle as he was on top of me ruining my innocence. It hurt at first to hear those words from Gil's mouth, but I realized after a while that he wasn't trying to steal anything from me. So I let him in. It was bare minimum by anyone's standards, but it sure was a hell of a lot by my own. I let him know things like what my favorite color was or what type of music I liked. He was the first person to ever really know what my favorite food was. He was just such a gentle talker that when he asked me a question I felt so comfortable sharing it with him. Through it all, I never thought of him romantically. Romance to me was nothing. I had it set in my mind that I was never going to get married, I was never going to have kids, I was never going to have the chance to cheat or do anything a woman in love does. So I left college, with one person knowing who I was and I left college almost as lonely as I had entered.

I left college never thinking of Gil again. I guess he thought of me because years went by and then one day I got a phone call. I got off the phone shaking, not believing who it was. I didn't think anyone had remembered me after I had met them. I knew that when I left SFPD that no one would remember me in a year. For the first time in my life, I was truly scared. Scared that someone had known who I was and scared that they still knew who I was. I was scared to death, but somehow found myself watching dummies flying off a roof six hours later. I truly don't remember how I got there, but I plastered on a smile for the one person who remembered me and hoped to whoever the hell received this prayer that this man wouldn't want to pick off from where he left off.

Seven years later, I wish I believed in God because boy have I gotten myself into some deep shit and I need help getting out.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's another. Still short and the next one is short too, but then they get longer. :) R&R

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Hurricanes

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Romance. A word that hadn't entered my mind in well…forever. Somehow that word slipped past my walls and the delivery man was named Gil Grissom. I came to Las Vegas with a mission: get this job done and get the hell out of here. Instead I landed on the freaking "Go directly past GO and do not collect $200" square. It seemed that GO was getting this damn job done and not collecting that 200 somehow meant that my ass was going to be firmly planted in Las Vegas for a very long time. That's not probably the best way to describe it, but right now, it is the only way I can think of to describe it. So I called the only person in SF that would pack up my belongings and send them to my new address in Las Vegas.

It didn't take more than a few minutes to realize that Gil Grissom was still the same old guy I had known back in college and it didn't take me more than a few seconds after realizing this to go through every swear world in the known world in my head. Five weeks later I realized that I had my first crush. A little late in the game, but it was happening. I cursed Gil to Hell for making it happen. This wasn't supposed to happen, but it was. I wrote it off because I had studied the other girls when I was younger. Their crushes wouldn't last longer than a few weeks so why shouldn't mine? So I went on recognizing this schoolgirl crush. One week. Two weeks. Three weeks. Four weeks. Oh I'm in some deep shit now.

It didn't go away. Instead it traveled from my brain to the center of my heart and it wasn't one of those slow acting diseases either. It went fast and it hit hard. I didn't believe it at first. Instead I dreamed that I had taken a medicine before bed and when I woke up, PRESTO! The want is gone. When I opened my eyes from my dream, it didn't work like it always did. The want was still there. So I kept trying. No go. I tried to forget him. Nope, this disease wasn't having any of it. Then, one night I had the solution. The only way to fight romance, was to fight it back with romance. I went to work that night with a plan.

That's how I ended up in the eye of Hurricane Hank. You may ask why I chose hurricane to describe this man. Well, because our whole relationship was spent in the eye of the storm. I was blissfully unaware of the quick and very painful hell I was going to go through once the edge of the eye reached us. When it did reach us, my tears could only be described as the torrents of rain that fall during these types of storms and the wind could only be described as the anger. The anger, not directed at Hank, but at me. Why the fuck I thought that this could keep my mind off of Gil is something I will never understand because after I found about Hank's other life, all I wanted to do was run to Gil and tell him all about Hurricane Hank.

Maybe if I went to church, God would listen to my pleas.


	3. Chapter 3

That review totally made my day. It totally took my mind off the pain of my spider bite. :D This chapter is longer, but then next one is even longer. Enjoy! R&R!!

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Smile

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It only took two months for the devastation that Hurricane Hank did to be cleaned up. After a while, I wished that I was still in the eye, heck I would even take the storm itself, instead of having to hear the words, "Since I met you" playing in my head day after day. I don't even think he thought before he said it because he looked about as shocked as me after he said it. Maybe he was thinking about someone else? Oh God how I had hoped. I don't know why I let those words taunt me. Shouldn't I be happy that he said that to me? I mean, I do kind of like the guy, so why wasn't I happy about it? Jeeze, I think I need a shrink to help me sort this all out. Wait. What am I saying? A SHRINK!? No, they don't do anything. Breathe Sara. You're just going through a psychotic episode right now. You do not need a shrink. They don't do anything besides give you a happy pill and send you on your merry way. Yes that's right. I do not need one, but I do need to talk about this with someone, but there is no one. I have no one but Gil. I don't know why, but for the first time since I heard that shrill laughter, that bothers me. I don't know why. Maybe I haven't been dreaming much? I don't know. Maybe this will go away, although that didn't really work with that little crush I had. Maybe I should talk to Gil? Ask him if he really meant those words. No. No, Sara Sidle does not talk about her feelings. That is not what Sara Sidle is about. She is strong, intelligent, and knows what she wants. I know what I though. I want Gil. I want him so badly to hold me and to tell me my life never happened and that he has feelings for me too. I want to open up finally, but it's not gonna happen. No. I won't let it happen because my mom opened up to the one man she thought she loved and he turned around and betrayed her time and time again by showing her the empty bottles piled up in our trash and the condom wrappers strewed around my room. No. I promised myself and I am sticking to it.

"Sara."

I did not just fall off the chair. Nick scared me so bad I fell off the chair. See what happens when I think about Gil? I drift to another place and then end up falling off a chair in the middle of the break room at my place of work. I glare at Nick just to let him know that I do not think him laughing is very funny. It works because he stops and helps me up like the kind gentleman he is.

"You ok?"

I hate his concerned faces. It's that type of face that makes you feel like there really is something wrong even though there isn't. He is always trying to help and to make sure I am ok. I'm just lucky I fell in front of him because if it were Hodges or Greg, dear God. I would never hear the end of it. I smile and plaster on my oh so practiced smile and tell him I'm all good. I can tell he doesn't believe me. He always sees right through my smile. It makes me self conscious to know that not everyone is fooled by my dashing smile.

"You need to practice your expression in your eyes because they tell a whole lot more than your smile."

With that he is gone. This leaves me a bit rattled. I cannot believe he just said that. I don't know why, but my feet start moving faster and faster until I am running in the direction Nick went. I catch up with him leaving the DNA lab and I stop and stare. He looks up from what I he is reading and doesn't smile. That's not a Nick thing. What's wrong with him?

"Hey, where's the Stokes smile?"

"I don't smile when one of my friends is in pain."

No no no no. Stop it Nick! Please. God. He can't do this to me. Oh God. Think fast Sara.

"Is Warrick ok?" Yeah, that's me thinking fast.

"Never mind. I have to go. I have to read this and bring it to Brass."

Desperate, I grab his arm, "Nick. I...I. After shift you wanna get some breakfast together?"

"Maybe. I'll see how much I have to do."

"Please?" This is pathetic. I am actually begging. Why am I begging? I don't beg unless I really want something. No. Stop it Sara. You do not need Nick or Gil or any other man in this world. Stop it. No really stop it. Let go of his arm and back away. Come on. You can do it. Come on, loosen the grip on his arm. Damnit. I can't do it.

"Yeah sure I guess. You're buying though." Hey there's the grin.

"Of course."

Maybe I am just having an off day. I don't need Nick. Yeah, an off day.


	4. Chapter 4

Another chapter. Told you it was longer. Reviews appreciated. :)

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To Be Human

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I really wish I could just fall asleep right now and dream away everything that is happening. This just can't be happening. My life can't simple for just one goddamn minute. He's missing. Why is this person doing this to us? Haven't we all been through enough shit in our life, especially him, to not have to go through this? We need to find him, but we all are so scared out of our minds that we aren't thinking right. His parents are here and are probably so confused about what is going because we are just not capable of speaking. His parents. They look like they are so scared. If I went missing would Grissom have that same face or would he just retreat to his little room and play with his bugs? I don't know the answer. I should know it, but I don't because all I can think about is him, underground, in a box, and dying. He hates going anything underground. He told me that once. He said that when he was little, his brother and cousins locked him in a root cellar as a joke. He peed his pants because he was so scared. I wish I was as strong as him and able to tell people all the things I am afraid of. He has confided in me so many times and all I can give him is a simple, "Me and my family didn't get along." What is wrong with me? I should be able to spill my guts after someone spills theirs to me. I must be defective or something because I can't seem to do anything human like.

A few hours later, I am thanking whoever the hell is up there that I am so robotic. I was able to think at a time he needed me so desperately. Yes that's right me. He needed me, not them. He needed me to remember all the little details of that awful interview and for once I came through. I remembered. I am so glad I did not dream away that little incident. I found him. I can't help but cry. This is one of the rare times in my life that I feel like I was actually put on this Earth for a reason. I feel so proud, but I make a promise to myself to make sure he never finds out it was me. I couldn't deal with him thanking me for the rest of my life. I can deal with a simple thanks once, but with Nick, if he knew, I would probably get a dozen daisies (some information he managed to get out of me) every single day until the day I die and probably even after I die. Yes, Nick will never know.

I need to see him. I need to know that he is ok. I stand up from the hard chair and slide against the wall, hoping that the nurses don't see me. I am in luck. Paperwork must suck in a hospital. I walk down the hallway and feel a chill. I hate hospitals. Memories of my childhood are painted on every wall of every hospital in Northern California. That is all forgotten when I see Nick's room. I looked in and see an Asian man. Great. He has a roomie. Hopefully this guy doesn't have a big mouth and get me in trouble. I walk in and notice his morphine drip and the drool leaking from his mouth. I think I am safe. I walk around the curtain and I see him. Laying in bed with no blankets on and the bare minimum of clothing. Woah baby. The whole no cloths thing makes sense when I see the bite marks all over him. He is lucky to be alive. He looks kind of peaceful, but I think that is because of the morphine drip he has going. I hope he doesn't get addicted to that stuff. I think too much. After a few minutes I do something very un-Sara like. I hold his hand. I can feel the bites on his hand, but I still hold it. When I was a little girl, after my dad would leave the room my brother would come in and sit in a folding chair and hold my hand until I feel asleep. He wouldn't leave my side though. He would sleep in that chair all night. He slept in that chair a lot. Holding Nick's hand makes me understand my brother a little more. I see why he did it. I feel like it is more of a comfort to me more so then to him. I feel my hand shift a little. I look down and see his hand moving in mine. I quickly pull my hand from his and look to his face to see if he is awake.   
"Hey." God. This guy can still smile after all the shit he went through. His voice is kind of raspy, but I think it's from the trache that I briefly remember the doctor stating he had in to help him breathe.

"Hey Nicky. I didn't mean to wake you. Just wanted to make sure you were in all one piece." Nicky. Why did I call him Nicky? I don't call him Nicky. He is just Nick. Tricky Nicky is for everyone else. Nick is the only name I know him by so why I did I say Nicky? I'm just concerned. Yeah that's what it is.

"Time?" I guess he has been reduced to one word sentences. God I hate this guy for doing this to him.

"Uh late. Very late. I had to sneak pass the Nazi Nurses." His smile is so beautiful. I wish I could just look at it all day.

"I won't tell. Promise." It's good to hear more than word. It means that he is not completely broken. God I hope he doesn't turn out like me.

"Good thing. Otherwise I'd have to beat you up. How are you feeling?" Stupid question Sara. Jeeze. How do you think he is feeling? He probably feels like he was blown up and eaten alive. Duh. "I've been better." Ok, sometimes he is worse than me with sharing his feelings.

"I'm just glad you are alive." The words came out in a whisper. A tone that is unfamiliar to me. I prefer yelling.

"I'm just glad you're here with me."

No. This can't be happening again. Please take it back.


End file.
